


The Adventures of the Zodiac Armsmen

by rosebird612



Series: Maglor in History [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M, Vermont, but not really, discussions about astrology probably, filming a movie and such, maglor is old and sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 07:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17280041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosebird612/pseuds/rosebird612
Summary: Maggie's a Vermont college student with a hot head and a passion for film; Finn's her very fashionable but snarky best friend; Victoria's a popular girl playing the lead woman; Jacob Björk is the even more snarky lead man; and Kane Finnegan is the mysterious, sultry Grad student from somewhere in Europe (no one could remember) that agreed to compose their soundtrack. Together, they make a terrible, terrible team.Not to mention that Maggie is a little too curious for her own good.





	The Adventures of the Zodiac Armsmen

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I'll be surprised if this gets more than 100 hits; I wrote it kind of as an in-universe addition to the Maglor In History series (of which I still haven't finished the prologue for the one other work in it). Enjoy anyways!

She saw him first at the coffee shop.

It was a strangely picture-perfect-Hallmark way of meeting someone, but it was how they met nonetheless. Additionally, the meeting itself was certainly the least Hallmark meeting they could have.

Maggie burst in the door in a particularly fiery mood, ready to spill it all to her barista-best-friend. The place was barely full, the usual, the the standard "Hello"'s and "'Morning"'s were all sent Maggie's way as she entered. She didn't even  _notice_  him at first. She just threw her bag down at the counter and took a long, deep, dramatic sigh.

"Chris!" She cried. Those in the café paid no mind to her. They were used to her energy. "Chrisie, Chrisie dear you have  _got_  to hear this!"

Chris turned at the espresso machine. Probably making more for herself. "Maggie Dali Lili girl, good morning to you too." It was the usual playful greeting, albeit a little over Maggie's energy. Her full name was Magdalena, but who really called her that, anyway? "What's the drama today?"

"Ugh," She curled over the counter and rummaged through her bag for her phone. Chris turned away from the machine, took a sip of her freshly made espresso, and leaned over the counter too. "Hope was  _seriously_  subtweeting me! Again! What is her issue?"

"Probably you threatening to fight her every time she walks past you," Chris scoffed. "I mean, she's crazy. But Maggie, c'mon. You can't expect her to be nice to you."

"I know, I know." Maggie rolled her eyes; that wasn't at all the reaction she was looking for at all. "But she's so mean! I don't deserve  _all_  her attacks."

"Oh, don't be dramatic." Chris waved her hand nonchalantly and took another sip of espresso.

"But- but  _Chris_ -!"

From the corner, an unfamiliar face rose from his book. "Pardon," He said, voice smooth as tap water. "Would you mind being a bit quieter?"

For some reason, this stranger's straight posture, uncaring gaze, and  _particularly_  beautiful looks set Maggie off even more than before. Chris saw the look in her eyes, the way her lips pulled back in a growl, and turned quickly to the stranger with the book.

"I apologize for her, sir." Chris bowed her head and whipped back around to Maggie. "Maggie, coffee and go. What's it gonna be today?"

Unfortunately, that hardly stopped Maggie's temper. With brown eyes like fire, Maggie stared down the guy. "Mind your own business, dude. This doesn't involve you."

He opened his mouth to respond, say a snide comment probably, but a second later his mouth was shut and he was gathering up his things. He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his coat, not bothering to put it on. "Then I'll leave," He said. A final statement. The last word. Maggie wouldn't have it.

"What's your problem?" She put a hand out to stop him as he went to walk past her. "Just mind your own business, there's no reason to tell me to shut up."

Again, he looked like he was going to retort back and shut his mouth a second later. "I have to go." He brushed past her hand and walked promptly out the door, leaving it to slam harshly behind him.

The café had stopped momentarily to see Maggie's outburst. When she turned, they all went back to their conversations or books to avoid her anger. Chris had her arms crossed, having set down her espresso to give Maggie her full-on scowl treatment. Maggie felt the air change, so she made herself look sheepish and stuck her phone silently in her bag.

"You should go apologize, Maggie." Chris grunted. "That was a bit over the top."

Maggie took a breath to actually calm herself down and looked over the drink menu, even though she knew it by heart and got the same thing everyday, to distract from the embarrassment she'd probably just caused herself. "It's fine. It's fine," She muttered. "I'll never see him again."

"This is an awfully small town, Maggie." Chris uncrossed her arms and grabbed a medium-sized hot cup anyway, knowing what Maggie's order was (it was the same everyday - medium hot black, no cream no sugar). "You're going to see him again and you know it."

"I've never seen him before now!" Maggie threw her hands up and rifled through her bag for her wallet. "Is he new to town or something? He could just be passing through."

Behind them, one of the regulars spoke up. "He just moved here," She said. "For grad school, I think. I heard he's rooming with Finnegan."

Maggie considered this for a half a second before immediately becoming angry again. "I thought Finn was in a single!" She reached for her phone again, to angry-text Finn, but Chris put a hand over hers and handed over the coffee, finished and ready.

"Two-eighty," She whispered. Her voice was a little too soft, the voice of someone trying to calm down an upset animal. "Talk to Finn later.  _After_  class. Now pay up and get outta here." She extended her hand for cash, so Maggie fished out her wad of ones (tip-money from the tea-place she worked at), and handed over three of the ones. She took a sip of the bitter black coffee while Chris dug for her twenty cents in the register.

"Keep it," Maggie took her bag and threw it over her shoulder. Usually, Maggie would take the change and throw it in her vacation funds jar, but today she wasn't feeling like opening her wallet. "You're right, I do have to get to class. Anyways, thanks for putting me in place like always."

Maggie left before Chris could yell out after her; she had to call Finnegan on her way to class, and there was no time now to stay and chat.

Fall in Colchester was already growing more frigid each day. Strangely enough, Maggie thought of the stranger at the café and wondered how he could even walk outside without his jacket on, but kicked the thought out of her mind the next second. Why was she worrying about him? Because of his pretty face? Certainly not because she actually cared. Hurriedly, Maggie kept those thought out of her brain and finally remembered to call Finnegan.

"Hey!" She answered before he'd even managed to say a word. "Why didn't tell me you had a roommate?"

Finn's voice came croaky and tired from the other side. "God, Mags." A creaking and ruffling fabric; Finn was getting out of bed. "You're trying to kill me with all these questions, aren't you?" 

"You told me last week you were in a single this year." Maggie whispered, frustrated. "You'd been adamant about it since forever."

"Yeah, I was." A sigh. "Listen, Mags, you have  _got_  to stop waking me up like this. Yes I have a roommate. No I don't want to talk about it at- at 8 am. Now go to class and let me sleep in for once!"

The line split. Maggie swore under her breath and pocketed her phone. She shouldn't have called Finn after all. She should really just ask him for lunch or something to make him explain there.

For Maggie's whole life, she'd always known and acted like this around Finnegan McGuinness (the most Irish name  _ever_ , really). They grew up next to each other, Finn's parents were Maggie's godparents and vice versa, and now that they went to St. Michael's together, they were even closer than before. And even though he was three years older, he was basically a brother. Another thing to note was how incredibly, embarrassingly high-maintenance Finn was. Whenever they had sleep overs, Finn brought more clothes and makeup and skin care stuff than Maggie even had in her house. Not to mention his morning and bedtime routine. No wonder he couldn't stop talking about getting a single dorm - his roommate would have been  _miserable_. But now he suddenly  _did_  have a roommate, and Maggie needed deets.

Unfortunately, she was already running late for French class. She ran the rest of the way, sipping coffee as she ran to make sure it didn't spill all over her and her computer.

She barely got there in time. She really shouldn't have stopped for coffee, but she'd only gotten four hours of sleep due to her wonderful decision of staying up extra-late to work on her screenplay. She couldn't help it. The damn thing was so close to being finished she could taste it.

French was never the best morning class to have. Maggie did her best to try and get into her French brain at 8 am, but it was proving harder than usual. She couldn't stop thinking about everything - the screenplay, the psych project she still had to work on, how quickly her coffee got cold, how cold it was outside, how that rude stranger had the most piercing eyes -

Class ended in a flourish of her professeur's routine, "À bientôt! Au revoir!" And Maggie was out the door a second later. She had to get to the library in time so she could get two straight hours in of her psych project, then she had to go right back to her dorm to change into gym clothes and work out. She had a tiny bit of time after that to write some of the screenplay and then get to her psych recitation. Maybe after that she could ask Finn to go out for a salad or something, ask about that roommate-

As always, Maggie was too deep in thought and not enough in where she was actually going. She went to turn onto the sidewalk to go to the library when someone, equally as distracted, slammed into her and sent the both of them to the ground. Maggie's coffee, now too cold to drink and disgusting, went flying and hit the other person square in the chest, opening and splashing everywhere.

"Oof-!" Maggie grunted, catching herself before she could totally wipe out on the sidewalk.  _And_  they were pretty much in the middle of the commons in front of the library,  _great_. "Hey man, what gives-?"

God damn it. It was him again. The gorgeous stranger, the rude guy from the café. And now she'd not only taken him to the ground and spilled his stuff everywhere, she split her coffee all over his nice red sweater, staining it a dark brown.

"Fuck- I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Immediately Maggie started rifling through her bag for a napkin or something. She didn't like the guy, but she wasn't a monster. "Here, here-" Finally, a napkin- "It's not much, but it'll clean up some of the mess at least. "

The stranger took the napkin, not breaking eye contact with Maggie, and turned away quickly to gather the spilled contents of his bag. It was music sheets, piles and piles of music. Maggie reached a hand to help gather it up, but he sent her another silent glare and she backed off.

"Neither of us were looking where we were going," He said, almost under his breath. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Maggie was appalled by him actually caring, but shook her head and got to her feet anyway. "I'm fine. I'm sorry about your sweater, I uh- I have some cash if you want, so you can wash it. I know there's a laundromat in town, I-"

"It's fine." He cut off. "I'm in a hurry, I'll clean it later." Without a second glance, he grabbed his bag, stood, and turned. "Thanks for the napkin."

Maggie stood dumbfounded. Had he just totally put her in her place again, or had she been over the top again? Or both? Either way, Maggie still didn't like the way this guy spoke to her. It wasn't like his voice wasn't pleasant, on the contrary - his voice was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard - but the tone he used was so disconnected Maggie wondered if he even saw who he bumped into. What a strange fellow.

The library was almost entirely empty. Anyone who was in there either had morning classes or had been there all night, since there's no way anyone else would come to the library at nine-thirty in the morning. Fortunately, that meant Maggie could get her quietest spot in the very corner of the library. Unfortunately, she made very little leeway with her psych project. She couldn't focus. She was suddenly feeling more and more guilty about her interactions with the beautiful stranger. Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? It was driving her crazy.

At least it helped with her screenplay; studying other people always gave her ideas for writing. The Stranger fit her lead male character quite well: broody, disconnected, and self-absorbed. At least that's how she saw him. The observations added just a little more dimension into the story, even if it was more subconscious than anything.

In hindsight, Maggie really should've made more of an effort to work on her project. When she got to psych class, the professor was seriously stressing the finished product to be arrived in the online portal by Friday. Just two months into the semester and this class was already brutal. Regardless, Maggie blocked out more time on her schedule to finish it by Friday night. It could be done. If she was able to stop thinking about pretty strangers.

By the time psych class was over, Maggie had Finn's number queued up on her phone and ready to call. She had a feeling he'd be anticipating her call, since as soon as the line went through he answered.

"Already on my way to the smoothie place." He said. He was more awake than before, judging by the smoothness of his voice. "Run over here before I have to go to my chem lab at 2."

"I'll run the whole way!" Maggie picked up the pace and shouldered her bag more so she could run. "Get the table in the back!"

"As always," Finn grumbled, and a second later the phone was disconnected. Maggie lowered it from her ear, pocketed it, and held onto both straps of her backpack while she ran. There was ice forming on windows as she passed them. She half-expected The Stranger to come out of nowhere and bump into her again, but there was no sign of him. Thank god.

Finn had, in fact, managed to grab the corner table, even amidst the crowd of midday customers. The place was populated almost entirely by college kids, but that was something Maggie was used to and glad of. No soccer-moms to be found.

"I got you the usual," Finn raised his own and the second smoothie to catch Maggie's attention. "Uh- the tropical one. How do you still drink those? It's fall."

"Because it's the best one, duh." Maggie took the seat against the wall and threw her bag on the chair next to her. "Now," She folded her hands together, "Let's get right into it. What's with the roommate?"

There was an inevitable heavy sigh from Finn, who rolled his head back and slouched in his chair. With good meaning, too. Maggie was relentless. "You really care that much?" He groaned, earning an enthusiastic nod from Maggie. "Fine. I couldn't entirely afford a single, and neither could he, okay? It's extra. Actually, he was planning on getting an apartment outside campus, but said there wasn't a place close enough to the music hall."

Music hall? Maggie noted the pages of sheet music The Stranger had dropped. "Does this roommate of yours have a name? What's his major?"

Finn took a long sip of his smoothie to avoid speaking for a moment. But Maggie's stare was unrelenting. It always was. Finn swallowed and sat back. "Kane. And he's not technically enrolled here, just doing research work in grad school for- what was it? I don't remember. He's abroad from England or Ireland or something. I don't entirely remember. I haven't really spoken more than a few sentences to him."

That seemed to add up, all but the England thing. Maggie didn't remember him having a British  _or_  an Irish accent. Now that she thought about it, she didn't remember him having any accent in particular at all. But the quietness made sense. If Maggie had gotten through two months of school not knowing her best friend had a roommate, than he couldn't speak too much. "Is he in music or something, then?" She said, mostly just as a blurted-out thought. Finn quirked a thick eyebrow. "I bumped into him today. Literally, if I'm being honest. He had all these sheets of music, it was a lot. And he was going in the direction of the playhouse."

"Probably for music, I'd assume." Finn shrugged. He didn't have a real answer. "I don't know if he does music stuff, he's never at the room. You could always  _ask_  him, Mags. You seem very interested in this guy. Who, by the way," Finn stuck in before she could speak. "-Is  _way_  out of your league."

"I'm not trying to date him!" Maggie whisper-yelled across the table. A few people shot them looks, but she paid no mind to it. "He's just mysterious."

"Which you can't stand." Finn rolled his eyes knowingly. "Not everyone has something to hide, Mags. Not everyone can be one of your movies, alright? It's fine that I have a roommate, I only know his name and that's great, and if you want to go after this mysterious, way-out-of-your-league grad student, then go for it. Now walk with me to chem."

Finn got out of his seat and grabbed his bag in one fluid movement, but Maggie was still stuck on so many things. Fortunately, Finn knew her well enough to know that if they didn't move on than they never would. He threw her bag at her and turned to walk out of the smoothie place, knowing she'd follow.

"Wait up!" Maggie threw her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her phone and smoothie, and ran out after Finn.

"Heh- you're like a dog." Finn scoffed and ruffled Maggie's head.

"Hey! Fuck off, I braided that this morning." She slapped away his hand and fixed her hair best she could. "Anyway, roommate aside, what's the news with the Halloween party? Anything better than last time?"

Finn let out a breath a bit too harshly and hung his head a bit. "You know as well as me that the admins here are terrible about Halloween." He kicked a pebble on the ground the distract somewhat from the annoyance that was beginning to creep up on the both of them. "We can still hold it on the Commons in front of the library, but it has to be over at ten."

"Ten?" Maggie gasped. "They can't seriously expect us to end a Halloween party at ten, can they?"

"Well, they can, kind of." Finn shrugged and took a sip of smoothie. "Unless we can find another place to host it. Like the Playhouse?"

Maggie bit her lip for a moment, considering the pros and cons. "The lighting isn't good enough in there," She sighed. "Although I guess the lighting wouldn't be great outside after ten, anyway. Who can we ask to get in the Playhouse?"

"I'll email and check with some of the professors, but it should work." Finn glanced over at Maggie with eyes that were entirely amused. "And the script? How's it coming?"

Maggie scuffed her boot a bit as she took her next few steps. Another distraction. "It's coming. Albeit badly," She admitted. "It'd help if I had a soundtrack for it, it always does. But-"

"Yeah yeah, Max is still sick. We're all worried about him." Finn shook his head. "No Max, no music. Is there nothing online you can substitute, at least for now?"

Maggie shook her head. "I've  _looked_ , but- I have such a vision in my head, I know exactly what it is that I need."

"You always do."

"Which is why I'd installed Max as our soundtrack guy." Maggie threw up the hand not holding her smoothie. "Who's now sick. There's only so much I can write without inspiration. It'll lack fullness. It's color and life. I just- I need..."

Finn looked at her. "A muse."

Maggie gave him a half-smirk. "Yeah. A muse."

They got to Finn's chem class five minutes early, but Finn was always early. After quickly fixing his lipgloss - he always insisted after drinking anything - Finn headed into the lab and waved Maggie goodbye. Their discussion had brought some bit of hope to her, if anything. Maybe now she'd walk around the Playhouse a bit, see if the theater kids were practicing their fall musical or if any music kids were practicing pieces. One of the a cappella groups, Maggie couldn't remember which one, practiced on Thursdays. Maybe she'd see them in action. And maybe it'd give her some shred of inspiration to work with.

The walk back across campus was bitterly cold. Maggie really had to stop walking everywhere and finally get a bike. Or at least get her parents to get her a bike. That'd help at least until the snow came. Then again, ice wasn't any good for bikes, and the ice was already starting up. Fall in northern New England was so finicky, its a miracle Maggie could stay warm at all-

This time, she caught herself before walking into anything. And this time, it was the door into the Playhouse. Not a person. Luckily.

It didn't sound like the theater kids were out and about, judging by the silence in the main room, but down the side halls Maggie could hear a variety of sounds coming from practice rooms. She hope one of the a cappella groups were practicing; they always loved when anyone sat in on a performance, practice or not. But it didn't sound like they were there - was it cancelled? It  _was_  Thursday, so maybe something had caused it to not be on. Maggie wouldn't be aware of what it was.

But there was sound down that hall, and it wasn't singing. Violin? It sounded like a violin. And whoever was playing it must've been angry, because the music was raggedy and sharp. Notes were placed where they sounded like they shouldn't be, strings were plucked mid-melody, and the bow screeched every other measure. But it wasn't  _bad_. The player was obviously very skillful, because that piece sounded professionally done. Maggie found herself drifting towards that room, a child drawn to her homing call.

Then it stopped. Maggie's feet were broken off from their mindless shuffle and she almost went toppling to the ground before catching herself and shaking her head. Was she really going after that one sound so brainlessly? The answer: yes. Absolutely. And she did again when it started back up.

This time, the violin was knowing of its audience. Maggie didn't know how she knew, but she knew. It's melody, this time, leaped over hurdles and swept across clear skies, painting a picture of both an adventure and a lazy afternoon. The song flourished it's way through coupled high and low notes, bouncing across the strings like a rabbit across a field. Maggie stood just outside the door, listening like her life depended on it. This was it. This was the opening sequence to her movie. It was the title screen, a shot of fields of wildflowers, breaking off into-

The violin shrieked. There it was. A change of scenery, zooming off the field and onto the haunted graveyard below. A group of college kids, not unlike Finn and Maggie and Chris, sat around a patch of empty grass, swapping secrets and drinking hard ciders. The violin trilled a high C. Shadows crept up on the students. The scene ended with a quick upwards scale, ending on a pluck of a string.

God. Not even Max could've followed Maggie's vision so closely. That was  _it_ , that was the soundtrack. She leaned into the door to peek through the little window off to the side, see who the player was-

Of course. Of-fucking-course. The Stranger, Kane. The supposed abroad student. Finn's silent roommate. The man with a face sculpted like a Renaissance-era painting of a mythological god. His music was beautiful and unbelievable. Barely even human, skill-wise. Maggie had never heard anything so raw and real, and perfect for her movie, and now she  _had_  to ask him to play for her. That would be near impossible. How was she supposed to just waltz right into the room?  _Hi, I was snooping on your playing and realized I need you in my movie. What'da say?_

Kane got up from his seat in front of the piano and set his violin carefully in its case. Did he know she was standing there? Probably. No, definitely. His head lifted and caught Maggie staring in, staring back equally as strong and a lot less interested. Nevertheless, he stalked over to the door and opened it.

"Sorry- sorry!" Maggie put both hands up, even though one of them still held the smoothie. "I was drawn to your playing, I didn't mean to-"

Maggie broke off, but she didn't know why. Kane's eyes were unnaturally bright and they stared her down with vigor. After a pause between them, the air awkward, Kane gestured inside the room and spoke.

"You want to listen to more?" He suggested. Maggie still couldn't place his accent, but he did sound sincere. But maybe he saw the confused look on her face, because he kept going. "My music has little impact without an audience. And you- you seem to like it."

That wasn't really an observation, but more of a statement. That irked Maggie a bit. "What makes you think I liked it?"

They both realized how rude it was to say that as soon as she'd said it. "Well," Kane let out a small laugh in spite of himself, "You're standing outside the door peeking in. And you just said you were drawn to my playing."

That seemed to remind Maggie of her original purpose. "Which I was- oh, I don't know how to say this." She glanced down at her feet momentarily, knowing how her and Kane had started off on the wrong foot twice but needing a music man anyway. "Okay, listen." She looked back up and met his eyes. "I'm writing this movie, and Max- who- who usually composes and creates the soundtracks, is super sick and has been for, like, a month. So now I'm stuck because I've barely gotten anything written on my script, and the first shoot is this next Tuesday, and I have no inspiration because there's no music to get me to keep writing. But I just heard you playing and-"

"You want me to write your soundtrack?" Kane scoffed. Was that a scoff? Maggie couldn't make out his expression. "A full score for this- film?"

"Well," Maggie reeled herself up again but there was nothing more to say. "Yes. I do."

There was a pause where Kane genuinely seemed to think about it. Then he saw Maggie staring attentively and turned away silently.

"Wait!" Maggie stepped into the room before he could shut her out. "You said your music needs an audience. This is the best way to get one! And having your name on the credits would be the best way to get more people to follow you, more people to listen to your music-"

"I cannot have my name on your film." He snapped, his head shooting to look over his shoulder while the rest of him turned away. "I mean- I do not want to have my name on your film or any."

"You want to keep to yourself, I get it!" Maggie took a step forward as Kane stopped at the side of the piano, brushing his long, nimble fingers over the dusty top of it. "We don't have to have your name on the movie, then. We can put someone else's name, anyone's. You can be nothing more than a ghost writer. But  _please_ -" Maggie held her hands up around her smoothie, the best she could manage at a begging gesture. "I've never heard anything like your music. It's  _exactly_  what I pictured as my title sequence! I need you to write this movie. I know what I need to do, I know the story and the looks of each scene, but- it'll miss its color and life without my inspiration. My- muse."

Kane didn't answer for a long while. Without a word, he sat down at the piano and settled his fingers over the keys. From the light managing to sneak in between the blinds, Maggie saw the conflict on his face. Those all-too-alien eyes were haunted by something, but Maggie couldn't figure out what it could be. Again, she was reminded of her lead in her movie.

"I know nothing about films," Kane said, finally. Even his voice sounded hollow, but it was then that Maggie noticed a bit of his accent - slightly Nordic, slightly Italian? A bit German? What was that? His - _th_ s were a little too pinched and the way he said  _films_  curled over the tongue.

"You don't need to." Maggie suddenly felt out of place with her smoothie and backpack, in the presence of this fanciful stranger. "I'm directing and writing it, we have a slew of student actors and extras, and my best friend Finn is shooting everything, he's the cameraman. All you need to do is show up to shoots and watch and put music to the pictures. I'll pay you," Maggie added, as something a bit more enticing. If he'd had to stay in the dorms with Finn because he didn't have enough money, maybe it'd be something that tipped him over in favor of composing for her. Hopefully.

Another half-minute passed. Kane was seriously debating with himself. It probably didn't help that his sweater was still stained with the coffee Maggie'd spilled on him earlier. But still, debating was better than a straight-out no.

"I'll do it." Kane sat up straighter in the piano seat and turned a bit towards Maggie. Her face lit up with excitement, opening her mouth to start blabbering on, but Kane beat her to it. "But no- no cameras on me, and I cannot have my name in any of the credits. Find someone to pretend to be composing for you. And I want a list of the dates of the shoots, and a detailed description of the story-"

"I'll get it all to you by Sunday." Maggie could barely contain her excitement. "Better yet, Saturday night - what's your number? Or email? I'll get it to you that way."

Kane shook his head. "I don't have either. I'm Finnegan's roommate, though, since you are his best friend. Give it to him and I'll get it."

No phone or email? How did he survive in today's world with no phone or email? Oh well, not important now. Maggie shifted in her feet and eyed the piano. "Can you play?" She nodded at it. Kane smiled just a bit, and that alone gave her a modest  _yes_. "Do you know any Strauss?"

Kane raised his eyebrows. "Johann Strauss? You listen to Strauss?"

Maggie crossed her arms. "What, don't think I can listen to classical?"

"I didn't take you as a classical sort of person."

Maggie rolled her eyes and wondered briefly what he thought she listened to - EDM, pop? Rap, maybe? "Can you play or not?"

"I know Strauss." His fingers strolled down the keys in experimental scales. "What do you have in mind?"

Maggie had already been thinking of one. It'd been stuck in her head since studying in the library, before psych class. "Radetzky March?"

Kane shot her a look. Maggie, once again, couldn't tell what kind of look it was. "That makes sense for you," Was all he said before turning back to the keys and jumped right into the upbeat and pounding march of Strauss.

Maggie set down her back, leaned against the wall, and sipped her smoothie. Not only was Kane's playing impeccable and exactly on time, he added his own flourishes in here and there without messing with the tempo. It was Strauss' march, but it was Kane's voice that came through the song. It was the march of a hundred little cats, strolling along one by one, furry chins lifted to the bright sky. Delightfully juvenile. Beautifully airy. Maggie didn't want it to end. It filled her with energy and joy, hearing the up-down jump of music.

But all things must end, and Kane ended on a dramatic but gentle trill and stopping note. Maggie took a deep breath, taking it all in, and stood back up straight.

"Yeah," She nodded dreamily, "This was a very good decision to ask you. Listen, about before..." She trailed off, but Kane didn't continue for her or do anything but look silently. It wasn't a stare, his stares were much more intense. "I snapped at you this morning at the coffee place, and that was only because I was worked up about an annoying coworker of mine, and it was super rude. And then of course I spill my coffee all over you, and that was only because I was super deep in thought about something-" Maggie wasn't about to say  _about you being mysterious,_ "-And was totally not looking where I was going. I'll still pay for cleaning, if you want."

Kane considered this for another moment, or at least it seemed as though he was. He glanced down at his stained sweater and only seemed to realize then that it was, in fact, stained. "Oh. No, no I can clean it. And it's fine. I get it. You seemed quite stressed and busy."

Speaking of which, Maggie had to get going to work on her psych project. Kane noticed the change in her posture and gestured to the door.

"By all means," He nodded. "Get started on your work."

Maggie backed towards the open doorway and pointed. "I owe you a favor! And I'll send Finn all the details and stuff!"

Maggie ran out of there as though we life depended on it. Damn that psych paper to hell! She was so full of ideas for her script that she barely waited until she was in her dorm to text Finn frantically about the new addition to their cast. She threw her bag onto her bed as soon as she entered, slipping out her laptop and opening it on the desk. Her roommate, who she hadn't noticed was in there too, stared incredulously and scoffed when Maggie didn't even notice her and loaded up the unfinished script.

"Uh, Maggie?" She tested, seeing if she'd be heard. "You good?"

Maggie jumped in her skin and looked over. Victoria was sitting cross-legged on her bed, hunched over a pair of jeans she was probably stitching a new patch onto. "Oh, hey Vicky. New patch?"

Victoria held up the pants. It was an ocean wave engulfing a seagull, well done and pretty detailed. "What's with the panic? Is everything alright?"

Maggie looked back at her computer screen. The script had loaded up and showed the most recent page, starting with, 'HANNA: We have got to get out of here!'. "Um, yeah. Great, actually. I just found a replacement - but not really a placement because I love him - for Max."

Victoria pursed her lips. Max's whole situation upset her the most, for obvious reasons. She'd been pining after the kid since she'd first met him just over a year ago, and he was greatly oblivious to her advances even despite her being one of the prettiest girls on campus. That tended to be the case with  _Victoria_ s. "So who is this replacement? One of the music kids? Don't tell me you got Evan. He's insane."

"Of course not." Maggie shook her head, scowling. "But guess. You might get it."

"Hm," She thought. "Bailey?"

"Uh uh. Try again."

Victoria really looked stumped this time. So Maggie, after glancing down at her phone quickly to see if Finn had texted back, gave her a hint.

"He's not an undergrad." She turned in her chair and leaned over the armrest. "Dark hair, sultry. Mysterious."

That gave away everything for Victoria. She knew probably ever guy on campus, and even those who're new or have no relation to her are in memory. "You don't mean-!" She sat up and set down her needle and pants. "Not  _Kane Finnegan_! He's a living legend!" Of course, a living legend with all the prowling girls on campus.

Kane  _Finnegan_? Did he really have the same name as Finn, just switched in place? "Well, I hadn't met him until today." Maggie thought about the meeting in the coffee place, then on the sidewalk, then in the music hall. "Why is he so famous? I haven't heard of him being known until now."

"Girl," Victoria crooked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows all the way. "Have you  _seen_  the man? He's like a long-haired Bruce Wayne with the look of some Lord of the Rings character. And he's  _tall_  and  _insanely_  talented, and- ugh!" She threw up her hands desperately. "And you got him to make our score? Please, please tell me he's coming to shoots!"

Maggie smirked deviously. If she'd known having Kane on with them would cause this much drama, she would've asked him to work for them sooner. "He asked for dates and times when I met with him just now, so probably, yeah. Ditching Max so soon?"

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Victoria's face dropped noticeably and her head turned back down to her stitching. "Obviously not," She murmured. Maggie shifted awkwardly in her chair. "I'm going to the hospital to see him tomorrow, so... Do you want to come with?"

Yes. Wrong thing to say. Maggie kept her self-loathing thoughts to the back and thought about tomorrow's schedule. Nothing, really. Just finishing the psych paper, and that she could do tonight. "Yeah, I'm free. I'm sorry for... you know. Uncalled for. You're allowed to ogle Kane as much as you want."

Victoria, though spirits dampened, smirked and lit up just a bit more. "You're damn right. Now, you need help with psych? I finished my paper and I know you still haven't come close to doing so with yours."

Maggie flicked her eyes over at the script. HANNA: We have got to get out of here! stared back at her with need and distress. But school comes first. Maggie closed the tab, vowing to come back to Hanna and her team later, and opened up the document with her psych stuff. "Yes, please. You are a godsend, Vicky." 


End file.
